


friend of the emperor's

by fthh



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Pining, Post-Timeskip | War Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-05
Updated: 2020-07-05
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:42:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25091059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fthh/pseuds/fthh
Summary: There’s something…gayabout Petra, don’t you think?(or, Dorothea notices some things about her favourite person.)
Relationships: Dorothea Arnault/Petra Macneary
Comments: 6
Kudos: 140





	friend of the emperor's

**Author's Note:**

> rated t for mild swearing.

It’s a small thing that snowballs into a slap across her face.  _ How _ did she not notice it before? It’s literally right  _ there.  _ Petra hasn’t even been  _ hinting  _ at it. Petra, sweet Petra, has been  _ very _ open about it, and yet she’d spent months —  _ months! _ — agonising over it, over the possibility of it even being there in the first place.

Honestly, for all the shit she gives Ingrid for being clueless, she hasn’t fared much better herself.

.

The ball had started rolling for real after Petra returned with Bernadetta and their professor from Brigid — Dorothea had checked in on her, and here they are now, side by side on Petra’s bed, catching up.

“Well, you know how it is,” Dorothea says, laughing, “Caspar is loud and brash. I don’t know how Lin, of all people, fell in love with him. I’m happy for them though. They’re cute together. I’m glad they found each other.”

“They are, indeed. Have you? In the short time I was being away with our Bernie?”

“Unfortunately not— I,” Dorothea stops herself. It wouldn’t do to confess to her straight sleep-deprived best friend at one in the morning. She settles on a wistful smile, a gentle, “Not yet.”

Petra looks out at the open window. “I wonder if the moon has become bored of my stories of you.” It comes out as a whisper, something Dorothea wouldn’t have caught if she hadn’t been hanging onto every word that comes out of Petra’s mouth.

“Huh?”

“My grandfather knows about you,” Petra says, firm, obviously intending this to be heard. She lets the words settle in the air before continuing: “I was telling him about you. I hope you two can be meeting one day.”

Dorothea goes back to her room haunted with thoughts of  _ oh?  _ over and over.

.

Dorothea doesn’t know when Petra started calling her different words in her native language — it was some time after coming back from Brigid — but it feels like a natural progression in their relationship, their  _ friendship, _ so Dorothea doesn’t mention it.

“Hello,  _ dreamboat. _ ”

Even with Dorothea’s painfully lacking vocabulary, she at least knows Petra is saying something beautiful in her language.

“Hello!” Dorothea turns to her, cheerful as ever. “Hmm, don’t tell me — it was something to do with… dream?”

Petra grins and it matches the sun. “Yes, something like that.”

“Oh, Petra,” Dorothea says, giggling behind a hand. “ _ You _ are a dream.”

.

“Oh, Dorothea,” Petra calls after her and catches her hand as she leaves the table to go wash her dishes. She is putting on her doe eyes, as if they both don’t know that Dorothea would say yes to anything Petra asks of her regardless. “Will you join me in my room later?”

“Yeah. Yeah, of course.”

Later, in the silence of the night, Dorothea is seated on the edge of Petra’s bed, the princess in between her legs on the floor. Dorothea is unbraiding her hair and combing through it with her fingers.

Petra leans back, and when she looks up Dorothea can feel herself falling, falling, falling, and  _ oh  _ she’s overwhelmed by this intimate gesture but she can’t look away, not when Petra is looking at her with such sincere eyes.

Dorothea thinks she stops breathing when Petra smiles up at her, her eyes forming half-crescent moons as she does so. “I am liking it when you comb my hair,  _ love.  _ You are always being so very gentle.”

“Oh, of course,” Dorothea says. “You deserve it, Petra, all the gentleness in the world, and so much more.” She finishes undoing Petra’s braids, and is now lightly scratching Petra’s scalp, and oh—

That is a  _ moan.  _ There is no mistaking it.

Dorothea wonders if she can elicit that sound from Petra once again, but she stops herself there. This is not the time nor the place to be thinking this way of her totally straight best friend. She takes back her hands and places them on Petra’s shoulders.

“There. All done.”

.

It’s two in the morning. They’re in Petra’s bed, still chatting about anything that comes to mind. Dorothea couldn’t sleep so earlier she’d knocked on Petra’s door asking for company. It’s nothing out of the ordinary, of course — this sort of thing has happened between them with some regularity for about a year now.

But tonight, there is a palpable tension between them that Dorothea doesn’t want to think is all in her imagination.

The bed is a tiny little thing — it was meant for one person, after all — so they have to squeeze and Dorothea is on fire everywhere they touch as they lie side by side on the covers. It’s silent now, but the absence of words between them is not unwelcome. They’ve said all that needs to be said. This familiar warmth between them doesn’t need words.

And then Petra breaks the silence with a small chuckle.

“What?” Dorothea asks, poking the side of Petra’s arm.

“I was having a thought. I would rather be shirtless than pantsless.”

“Uh?”

“I am meaning, having my breasts out is much more pleasant than having my legs out, do you not think so?”

“I… I guess?”

“In any case, of course,  _ sweetheart,  _ there is no situation that would call for me to go without my shirt or my pants.”

Petra giggles once again, and Dorothea has to bite her tongue to stop herself from describing different scenarios in which it would indeed be more appropriate for Petra to not be wearing pants.

But that’s for another time.

.

“Edie,” Dorothea starts, taking a sip of her tea for dramatic effect. “Is Petra, you know… a friend of the emperor’s?”

Without missing a beat, Edelgard answers, “Yes, she is one of my most trusted friends. What do you mean?”

“I mean, it’s a euphemism for— never mind. Is she, you know?” Dorothea mimes a bird using her hands, mouthing, “An eagle?”

The emperor’s brows knot in confusion. “What… what are you asking?”

Dorothea huffs. “Is she gay? Does she like girls? I have a feeling she likes me back!”

“Congratulations. You are the last to find out. On all counts.”

.

It’s a rare occurrence, for Dorothea to sit at the pews, watching specks of dust glint and gleam in the sunlight as they settle among the rubble at the front of what was once a church, but this is a rare occasion, so she’ll let it slide.

She clasps her hands together, but she doesn’t close her eyes. She looks up and announces with a firm determination: “Goddess, if you’re out there, if you even exist, do  _ not _ fuck with me on this one.”

She doesn’t notice Byleth sitting at the other end of the bench, but when she does, she is met with wide inquisitive eyes staring back at hers. Her former teacher cocks her head to the side, asking a silent question that doesn’t need any words between them.

“It’s just,” Dorothea laughs, devoid of any mirth whatsoever. “Petra, you know? What if I mess all of this up? What if I’m imagining things?”

“The only way to truly know is to ask her.”

Dorothea leans back and looks away from Byleth to stare at the debris. She heaves a deep sigh as she makes up her mind. “Yeah, I  _ should _ just say something, right? Thanks Professor.”

When Byleth returns the smile, it’s all soft around the edges, a familiar sight from five years before.

“It’s just Byleth now, Dorothea. I’m not your professor anymore.”

.

Dorothea eyes the violet flower crown in her hands as Petra watches her expectantly. This… this can  _ not _ be ignored. It’s nothing short of Petra announcing her feelings from the top of Goddess Tower, but she needs to make sure, so:

“Petra, are you flirting with me? Like, romantically?”

“I have been for the past five months, but thank you for noticing.”

**Author's Note:**

> i love them! hehe
> 
> inspired by a silly conversation with [doc](https://twitter.com/sadsambharsobs) and [yocto](https://twitter.com/yoctogram_). you bring me such joy :)
> 
> [x](https://twitter.com/clonebutt)


End file.
